


Hello, Goodbye

by Faetality



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-11-13 12:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18031931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faetality/pseuds/Faetality
Summary: The year was '68, the location was Vietnam, and Klaus was not supposed to be there. No one was.At least there was good company - flickeringly brief as it may be.Alt Summary: "Depressed gay #1 gets shoved through time directly into Repressed Southern Gay's arms. Also, they're fighting a war in Vietnam"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not going to hope for a consistent posting schedule but I do have a wonderful beta and passion for this pairing- so! I hope you enjoy!

There was the sensation of being dragged underwater, of a current too strong to fight and drowning. It lasted seconds. It lasted hours. There was the tearing of skin and muscle at a cellular level, a thousand screaming voices, pain unimaginable, pleasure-  Then, without warning he was being slammed against the ground with a head splitting sensation and there was yelling and he was still holding that  _ stupid box.  _ The box that was responsible for a man with a voice like broken glass yelling at him, yelling at other people to  _ get him up. Get him dressed and a gun in his hand.  _ Rough hands dragged him from the ground up to his feet and clothes are shoved at him before he can protest-  _ “I’m not supposed to be here!”  _

 

He wasn’t supposed to be there. 

 

He was in shock, he knew that- dimly. It was akin to the feeling he got coming down off an oxy-high. The too tight feeling of his own skin and the cotton-dulled pounding of his head. The way things moved a bit too slowly to be normal. Words didn’t have a meaning when they should. At least no one was shooting at him- he’d be dead then certainly. Dead like Ben. Ben who also wasn’t here. He had always been there, hovering on the fringes, sticking his nose in where he didn’t belong. He was always telling Klaus what a  _ bad idea  _ everything he did was. He always begged for a moment of peace- He didn’t think he’d hate the silence so much.

 

“Hey, you just get in country?” It says something for his head that he didn’t notice his seat mate had left him- they were packed in the rough-riding military bus like sardines and he hadn’t noticed the stranger being replaced by another stranger -albeit far more handsome stranger but a stranger all the same. He’s the one who had first seen him arrive. The man is just barely behind him, with dusty hair, eyes like an overcast sky, not exactly baby-faced but not as war hardened as the other men who had been barking at him since before the dark turned to day. Someone who might just help him. He tries to flash a charming smile, the same one that got him pass bouncers and convinced people he was exactly where he was supposed to be. It’s more forced than he wants. 

 

“I- uh- I guess you could say that.” 

“My name’s Dave.” 

“Klaus.”      
The not-stranger’s hand was warm in his own. He was always cold, a byproduct of a _ lovely  _ childhood and a  _ lovelier _ bad habit. He’d never been so keenly aware of it before. He doesn’t want to let go.

 

“I’m Klaus.” 

 

~

 

There were a lot of weird things that had happened in the four months he’d been in ‘nam. He’d seen enough death and bloodshed to last him a lifetime and he’d made brothers he would die for in a heartbeat. So a new guy, out of the blue, who looked about as lost as Dave felt when he first set foot in Atlanta for deployment wasn’t exactly enough to rattle him. Shake? Yes. Rattle? Nah, it took a bit more than that.    
  


“You mind if I sit with ya?” Turned back as he was couldn’t be comfortable but Dave wasn’t about to push, some guys didn’t mind the close quarters but a number of the new guys weren’t quite comfortable with it. If they didn’t have to share a foot of space they didn’t. They got comfortable sooner or later but he wasn’t one for shoving into where he wasn’t wanted. Klaus moved over.  “So, where’re you from?”    
  
They had about an hour ride ahead of them if all went well, it couldn’t hurt to get to know each other. He shifts his rifle between his knees and leans against the seat. 

“A  _ long  _ way from here. You?” It wasn’t exactly an answer but there wasn’t a thing about the man that seemed simple so far. He smiles. 

“Georgia. Little town, not much t’ talk about, honestly.” There’s something about home that was a simple comfort to talk of, knowing there was still a place that was safe and sound and  _ peaceful  _ in the world. It was also a painful reminder of where one should be. “You got family stateside?” 

“None that’ll miss me.” The man was fidgety that was for sure, hands clasping and unclasping and when he turned them just so there was black ink over the palms. Not a regular sight but a curious one. Everything about him was curious. 

 

The ride was over before he realized it,  Klaus was… well he supposed odd would be a good enough term. But, it felt too simple. They’d talked about hometowns, though he still had no  _ clue  _ where Klaus was actually from. Favorite films (none of which Dave had  _ ever  _ heard of), places they had been, topics that were always safe enough. The more they talked the more life seemed to creep into the man’s eyes. The more often his words took on a melody; he loved it. They weren’t the first off the bus nor were they were last- as soon as boots touched ground there was flurries of movement and people calling out orders. Behind him Klaus was frozen again, one hand holding his gun and the other clutching that briefcase. 

 

“I uh, I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“I’ve got you, stick with me and you’ll be just fine.” The camp was one of the more stable outposts, it hadn’t seen much action, but it was active enough to call for temporary reinforcements. The barracks were sturdy, there was music drifting from a crackling speaker somewhere west, and once they were checked in and briefed they were free to roam for a while. He set up near the back of the third tent, directing Klaus to the only cot further back. He was less likely to get in trouble there.   
  


“How long will we be here?” 

“Few weeks maybe. Hard to say with how things ‘round here are. Might be a month and it may be three days.” If there was one thing he was certain of it was that nothing at all was certain. Not out there.  “Come on, let’s get some food. I know I’m starving.” He was halfway to the exit when it became clear no one was behind him. “Klaus?” He was sitting on the cot, staring down at the briefcase in his lap. “Klaus, you alright?”    
  


His head snapped up, wide eyes a bit glazed but he said, “Yeah. I’m fine. You said there was food?” and then he was swaggering out of the tent, more confident than Dave ever remembered feeling. 

 

The case was out of sight. 


	2. Chapter 2

_ Three weeks.  _ Three weeks of total cluelessness about the world around him. The year was ‘68, he was in Vietnam, there was a war raging on around him, and every other man threw him a side eye when he walked passed. That was easy stuff. The harder part was why he was staying- well. That was easy too. The case… well, it wasn’t like a calendar. There were no dates to input and if he opened it again there was no telling where he would end up. Likely somewhere worse than this. A place without a kind-eyed man to smile and tell him it was all alright. Not that  _ that  _ was going anywhere. Maybe. Hopefully. Aw, who was he kidding? He was going to try to get that. Besides the unpredictability, there was the matter of how it felt traveling with the case the first time. It was like the worst of a withdrawal, like he was being torn apart and knit back together again by a particularly bad knitter. He wasn’t keen on that experience. 

  
  


It wasn’t all so bad. The food was okay, the guys never  _ said  _ anything to him about him being him, and considering when and where he was that was as good as it could get by his guess, and there was no looming apocalyptic threat. The early wake ups and the training and the yelling he could do without though. “Hey Pretty Boy, move!”  _ Ah, shit.  _ He was a lover, not a fighter. He just wasn’t cut out for it. The physical training Reginald Hargreeves,  _ good ole dad,  _ put him through had been extensive but it had been so  _ very long  _ ago. He may have lost some of the edge. Or all of the edge; but the body remembered things that the mind forgot. Small miracles. 

He’d never fired a gun in his life before then. Hargreeves’ had decided that guns were-  _ oh how did he put it?  _ Unextraordinary weapons for the most ordinary people and The Umbrella Academy was above such babarianship. He expected it to be harder to learn. More jarring when it kicked back against his shoulder- but there were warm hands that guided him through the motions and a bright grin when he got it down. The lingering warmth of the man, Dave, didn’t help his concentration but he got it anyway. 

It also didn’t help that there were two pills and one little white packet left from his coat pockets and the withdrawal wasn’t going to be pretty. There wasn’t a place to get anything for three miles- unless he took from the med kits which wasn’t a horrible idea. He’d just have to wait until most the camp was asleep and slip over to grab a few pills. Just a handful to tide him over until they got somewhere  _ civilized.  _ Hell, maybe even the good doctor would prescribe him something if he asked nice enough, offered a trade or maybe he could just-

 

Gunfire stops that thought. He was used to hearing the yelling and the screams and the shots in the night. The high only numbed so much when the dead were so many. It was manageable though. With the drug in his veins it was manageable- after all. The waking world was much the same. “Get your gun, go!” He stumbles but then he’s running. He was always good at that. 

“Klaus! Klaus, here!”  _ Dave.  _ He’d never really had a best friend, Five was a little prick growing up and Vanya was always so quiet- it was hard to connect. Diego… was Diego. Ben was the closest thing he’d ever had but they were siblings, very different from friends. Dave was a friend. A friend who knew little about him and still trusted him to have his back. No one trusted Klaus. Ever. “Come on. You’re with me.”    
  


“Well, where else would I be?” A raised brow and he laughs. Laughter was easier than the truth- and it was far more entertaining. God knows everyone already thought he was a crazy bastard. The first time he’d been called that in this time, by a man called Haven who’s grin was the only thing bigger than his fists he’d just cocked a brow, “ _ Crazier than running  _ **_at_ ** _ the bullets? _ ” Everyone here was crazy, he was just a different brand. Maybe not though, seeing that he was also running toward the people shooting at him. It’s wasn’t like there was another choice- it was that or it was running through the unknown jungle and probably dying from some  _ other  _ unspeakable, horrible fate. “Get  _ down _ .” his knees hit the ground hard, Dave’s hand lands on his back, pushes him behind the barricade and lingers just long enough to make sure he stays. 

“ _ Forceful _ .” Dave rolled his eyes at him- he never let himself have any  _ fun.  _ Stupidly attractive, stubborn southern boy. “Shut up and shoot and I’ll give you the good news.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

_ Tuck in, aim, fire, aim, fire, duck, aim _ … it was rhythmic, and so long as he didn’t aim too well he never had to look a ghost in the eye knowing he put it there. They were bad enough when they were randos following him around. Having a ghost with a grudge would be so much worse. “So, sugar, you said something about good news?” 

“We’re shipping out tomorrow and staying in a city for a while. Leisure time.” That was something he hadn’t expected. It was a war they were in after all, who had time for dancing? Well, he always did. But he wasn’t  _ normal.   _ A city meant dealers. Meant he might not have to hit withdrawals. 

“ _ Oh thank, god _ .” 

When the bullets stopped flying he flopped over onto his back, looking up at Dave who had the  _ audacity  _ to smile at him. No one should be allowed to look that pretty covered in sweat and dirt. “So, soldier, I heard there’s a party going on down south from here. Wanna go?” 

 

-

He shouldn’t have taken the pills. He should have waited and taken them on the bus but no. No, he hadn’t waited and they were wearing off and he still wasn’t moving any closer to anything new. It was making him snappy. “Hey, we’re packing up.” 

“Oh  _ are  _ we? That’s wonderful.” There was a soldier missing half his face standing just behind Dave’s shoulder- he wasn’t speaking but he was  _ staring.  _ Always just staring. Klaus hisses-  _ “go away.  _ No, no not you Dave. I’m sorry. _ ”  _ The soldier remained there. Another appeared just behind him, still shrieking from the pain of whatever killed him. Klaus winces and digs nails into his palms.

“Stress getting to you too?”  __

“Yeah, something like that.” 

“Good thing we’ve got leave soon.” How he was up and ready to go so quickly Klaus didn’t know. He’d been able to do it in the future but that was because he didn’t  _ have  _ anything. He had the clothes on his back and a few bucks most the time. Not things he worried about packing and unpacking. As it was now he had ten minutes to get everything together and he could barely keep  _ himself  _ together. “Klaus. Here, give me your pack. You just worry about your gun and your case.”  _ God, he was kind.  _

“Thanks.” 

-

“You good?” Brackett was looking at him strangely. What had he been doing? Eyes flick to his leg and he realizes that he’s been bouncing it near frantically. More jittery than the soldier was used to. 

“Just excited to get out, go dancing, find a pretty face or two before we get sent back out y’know?” There’s a little plastic bag full of white powder in the pocket of his vest. If he could get away for half a second it wouldn’t be a thing. But then he’d really be out and that was worse than the jitters.

“I know what you mean. What about you, Dave? You ready for some fun?”

 

“I ain’t seen a girl in five months, Brackett. What d’you think?” Klaus did  _ not _ feel disappointment at that. Not a bit. Nope. Loading up was a quick and rowdy affair. There were twenty-eight in their squad, fourteen on each bus. Dave and Klaus took a seat in the back, hardly an inch of space between them. Dave was broad-shouldered, heightwise he only had an inch on Klaus but at least three in the width of his shoulders. Behind his eyes, his laugh, and his all American boy grin it might have been Klaus’ favorite thing about him. 

“So, Pretty Boy, back home you got a girl waitin’ on you?” Everyone knew about Gunner’s girl. Knew he was going to marry her the second he got home and have two kids and live out their days somewhere in Ohio. It was about all he ever talked about. A lot of the guys talked about things like that, who was waiting for them states-side and what was going to happen when they got to see them again. Klaus couldn’t relate. 

“ _Me_? Oh, no. I prefer to keep myself available. Why have one when you can have ten?” Girls, guys, and everything in between. He’d never been shy about his preferences before but he knew this was different. He had to be  _ careful.  _ It was awful. He knew some of the guys already whispered about him but so far he's been fine. Guess having a war to fight took precedence over rooting out any queerness. 

“What about you, Dave? You sure there's no one waiting for your dumb mug stateside?” 

“Nah, never had the time before this.” There’s a glance his way, pretty blue eyes holding some emotion he didn’t know enough to put a name to. Klaus decides he’s gonna like it anyway. It felt like it was meant for him. If only he knew what it meant. 

  
The bus was  _ hot.  _ Not ten minutes down the road and he was sweating, skin sticking to the seat and half blind with how it was dripping into his eyes. Beside him, Dave was doing better but still tugging at the collar of his shirt like it would save him from the sun. 

“You okay?” It’s a quiet query, not meant for the other guys to hear. 

“I’m fine, Dave. Just a little warm.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“That why you’re shaking too?” He frowns, shifts, curls back a bit. He doesn't need _that_ from Dave.

“I’ll be fine. We’ve got a week of free time. I’ll be fine.” 


	3. Chapter 3

“Where were you? I thought we were going to have to get dinner without you.” Klaus had disappeared almost as soon as they reached Saigon. They were told which hotel to stay in but otherwise had free reign and most of the guys were getting a proper meal and tucking in for the evening. The very idea of a proper mattress was enough to tempt some of them into skipping the meal entirely. 

“Just needed a bit of time for me. Looking like this takes work.” There’s an exaggerated gesture at his own body and Dave allows himself to  _ look  _ just for a second. He  _ had  _ cleaned up a bit, looked like a proper human being, but the thing that actually caught his attention was the tremors had stopped. The whole ride Klaus had shook like a leaf but now he was steady as he tossed his arm around Dave’s shoulders. “Come on, Dave. We shouldn’t be late! The others might get  _ ideas. _ ” 

Klaus had made a name for himself in the squad simply by his personality- he was odd sure but he’d given the base a bit of life. Even when he grated on nerves or seemed oblivious to the war around them he was still a breath of air. Dave never had it in him to complain because there wasn’t a single thing  _ to  _ complain about. Klaus was Klaus and that was a good thing. Anyone who disagreed, and there were plenty, didn’t see or care enough to change it. He tosses his own arm around the man’s shoulders and they walked like that, ribbing each other over inconsequential things. Just good friends. Klaus plucked at his shirt with a wrinkled nose.

 

“I think you need a new shirt- that one smells like a dumpster and  _ believe me  _ I would know. I’m thinking something  _ blue. _ ” 

“Oh are ya now? You gonna dress me up?” 

“Well, clearly you can’t be trusted to do it.”

“Oh, really? I’ve done just fine without you, sunshine.” 

“But  _ have you _ ? Have you  _ really _ ?” He’s still grinning when they sit down. 

 

The city was big and the restaurant was bustling. The odd looks they were given rolled off their backs, they’d dealt with worse than a few stares. He hadn’t had a proper meal in over three months and he’d take just about anything set in front of him at that point. He knocks shoulders with Klaus, nodding as a young Vietnamese girl approaches them. In accented english, she asked what they would have, and it was smooth sailing straight up to when Klaus ordered in fluent Vietnamese with a smile and flourish of the small menu. The table was dead silent. The kind that followed the last of a series of dropping bombs and that preluded storms. 

 

“What? Do I have something on my face?” He seemed genuinely confused. 

“You speak Vietnamese?” Brackett is the first to speak up from down the table. 

“Yes.” After another beat of silence, when it was clear Klaus didn’t have anything else to add, there’s a collective shrug and the conversation starts back up. Dave turns his head, 

“When did you learn that?” 

“I was… eleven? Somewhere around there- Daddy Dearest decided I should know enough to be useful.” It was the first mention of his family in the time he had known the man. He knows better than to push for more. 

“What else do you know?”  He was full of surprises, every tidbit of information a new facet to a never-ending gem. Another thread in a tapestry one could only see a part of. 

“Oh, uh I know some Russian, Spanish, French, Italian, little bit of Mandarin. Those are what I remember. You could not  _ imagine  _ the homework I had as a child. It was  _ awful. _ ” There’s no option but to shake his head and file the information away with the rest of the things he knew. 

“What about you?”

“Just English- unless you count bein’ able to understand southerners as a language.” 

-

Their rooms were just down the hall from each other and Dave walked Klaus down to his door after dinner to which the man exclaimed “What a gentleman!” Once back in his own room he stripped down and took a cursory sniff of his shirt only to jerk back. Maybe Klaus had a point. He’d need to pick up some civies. The water in the shower is lukewarm but it well could have been a hot spring for the sigh that left his lips as he stepped under the spray.  He tips his head back and scrubs his face-  _ god this is nice.  _

Back home he had never appreciated anything enough- not the warm water, the creeks, even the sweltering Georgia summer he could have loved compared to the country he was in. He could have appreciated everything a little more. When he went home he would never take any of it for granted again. 

One thing Georgia couldn’t boast was the man down the hall though. When his thoughts wander to lean muscle and long lashes he cuts the water off. He couldn’t afford to think like that. It was bad enough that Klaus flirted with him- but it wasn’t serious. It was just Klaus. He was never  _ serious  _ about it. No matter how many times he caught his eye and didn’t look away. It wasn’t real and thinking it was would get him killed. If not by some enemy while he was distracted then by an American soldier with a homebred hatred for him and his. So he throws on shorts and drops down into the most comfortable bed he’s felt in recent memory, letting exhaustion drag him away from thoughts of blue eyes and loud laughter. 

-

He wakes with a start, ghostly gunshots ringing in his ears and sweat on his brow. There’s a long silence, even the city outside the window didn’t dare disturb it. “God-” he rolls to the side and stares out at the darkened window. One would have thought the space, the room to himself and bed to stretch out in would be a comfort but he misses a body near him. The proof that he wasn’t alone out here. He shivers and closes his eyes against the sparse room, dragging the second pillow on the bed toward his chest and waits for dawn to break. 

  
Klaus is sitting in the hallway when he opens the door half past seven. His head is tipped back against the wall and when he opens his eyes there’s a far away look that Dave knows well enough. He doesn’t ask what he took, doesn’t really want to know. Klaus was careful about his habit- as careful as could be expected, it never affected his performance so the higher ups didn’t seem to care; but he did. People coped in different ways and most the time it wasn’t his business and right then he couldn’t blame the man for taking some comfort in something that might kill him. But he didn’t like it. 

Klaus jumps up as soon as he opens his eyes. “I want waffles.”

“Good luck finding those here.” 

“That’s why I’m taking you with me. You’re my good luck charm.” 

“How about you go put on somethin’ other than your sleeping pants and then we’ll see what we can do.” When Klaus turns to saunter back down the hall Dave finds his eyes lingering. Klaus wasn’t as scarred as a lot of the guys he’d been around, but he had a few, he had more tattoos than most the other guys though and each one was as eye-catching as the last. He’d asked once, weeks ago, why he had his hands tattooed with hello and goodbye. Klaus had given him a mischievous grin and said “So I can instantly be done with a conversation” with a wave of his right hand and a twirl back across camp. That had been the end of that. 

Klaus comes back in jeans and a washed out yellow shirt, his hair looking as though he’d run his hands through it a million times. “Waffles!” 

 

It took thirty minutes to find a good place for banh. The little bread rolls were sweet and the sound he made at the first bite was, quite frankly, inappropriate. Klaus laughs at him, he’d pouted at the distinct lack of golden waffles, but the rate he’s putting breakfast away betrays his own delight with the food. There’s hardly a word spoken between them until the day is pleasantly bright and the city is properly alive. Klaus’ head rolls back, eyes closed. “I think,” he drawls “I have earned a nap.” 

“It’s barely eight thirty.”

“I said what I said, care to join me?”  He considers it, he truly does. Thinks about stretching out beside a warm body without worry of bullets for the first time in a long time and sleeping a few straight hours. He thinks about it and he  _ wants  _ \- but he  _ can’t.  _

“I believe someone told me I needed new clothes, so I’m gonna do that I think.” 

“What a shame.”   
_ Yeah. What a shame indeed.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys want to come talk to me about this story, these dorks, or anything else shoot me a message at faetxlity on tumblr.


	4. Chapter 4

The first night, when Dave walked him back to his room then left him there, Klaus turned and went straight back out into the city. Since dinner there was a boy, hardly thirteen, with his guts in his hands and anger in his eyes, screaming and begging Klaus to do  _ something  _ \- so he does. He goes and finds something to  _ shut. Him. Up.  _ He finds peace in a line of white powder and somehow finds his way back to the unfamiliar motel without landing himself in a ditch. 

After breakfast he watches Dave walk away. It’s fine, it’s quiet on the ghostly front. He spends most the day asleep anyway. 

When he wakes around four it’s with the desire to do something  _ fun.  _ He couldn’t have fun without being well dressed first though. He knocks on Dave’s door when he passes but there’s no answer. He knocks again. “He went out with some of the other boys about an hour ago.” 

“Thanks, Tom.” 

Wandering the city was strange enough at night but in the day he feels even more lost. The language is familiar, he knew it but it was rusty. The first place he shops at is not his style  _ at all.  _ It's stuffy button ups and khakis. It’s half an hour before he finds a place with  _ style  _ and it takes flagging down two pretty girls and flashing his biggest smile to get them to show him the way. By the time they reach the shop the girls are laughing and one, whose given name is Sarah - and who was he to question it- points him at a display of makeup tucked into corner. With a thank you and flourish he sends the girls on their way. 

He has half a wardrobe in his hands before he realizes he can’t carry it all with him for however long he was going to be in country so he begins narrowing it down to a few pairs of pants and six shirts. It’s comforting to have the bright fabrics in his hands after months of the army green and browns. Tie dyes and pinstripes and purples and yellows that  _ feel  _ like life. He’s positively giddy when he skips his way back to his room for a shower. 

The disco-  _ an actual real life disco  _ \- is probably the most fun Klaus has had in  _ years.  _ The bartender kept sending him shots, alcohol couldn’t dare compare  to a good high but the energy of the people around him was nice. “I’m not carrying you outta here if you keep knocking them back like that.” That voice was  _ familiar.  _ He’s grinning before he turns his head. Dave looks  _ good.  _ Blue was  _ definitely  _ his color, it complemented his eyes, his hair, his all American boy charm. It stretched over his shoulders and maybe he was being too obvious because Dave looked away and yeah- he was cute when he blushed. 

“Then I guess you should do something to distract me…  _ or _ you can join me.” 

*

Dave was a lightweight and it was  _ delightful.  _ He downed three shots and was already looking longingly at the dance floor. “Come on, Captain America!”

“Nah, I think I need a bit more liquor in me before I try that.” Klaus leaned over the bar, close enough to feel the heat from the other man.    
He flicks Dave’s shirt collar, “Suit yourself.” 

He’s never been self conscious about… anything. Not really. Not since he was fourteen and watched his “dad” decide that he wasn’t worth the effort anymore. So in a bar in a time he didn’t belong he tossed his head back and swayed to the music, laughing when two girls took his hands and spun him around. 

He didn’t see the stormy eyes at the bar, watching his every move. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s short, I know. But there are good things to come!


	5. Chapter 5

Klaus was  _ stunning.  _ Absolutely stunning, like a vision from a dream he might have had once. He moved without worry, without  _ fear _ . Dave wasn’t a coward, he would be the first in a fight when it was called for  but there were certain things he simply couldn’t do. Things like look his momma in the eye and tell her he was in love with the boy down at the hardware store, or ask a pretty girl to dance because his two left feet kept him standing on the wall. Naw, he wasn’t a coward but he was pretty damn scared sometimes. Scared of rejection. Of failing his folks and losing his family. Scared of dragging Klaus down with him into the mud and blood and ruin of a life like his.  

 

He orders two more shots and decides to step onto the floor- he’s been shot at for months. A couple’a dances wouldn’t end him. If he’s a little loose limbed and doesn’t brush the hands that take his away that’s his own business. The song changed to something with a strong base, the synthesizer chords providing a rhythm to swing to. He knows that somewhere behind him Klaus is dancing like a madman, twisting and turning and  _ feeling.  _ Dave just doesn’t realize how close he is until he’s bumping into someone else and turning with an apology on his lips. But it’s Klaus. Of course it is. It’s Klaus that’s turning with big eyes and lips parted on a laugh. Klaus mockingly shaking his fist and asking him if he’s ‘looking for trouble, big guy?’  

_ If you’re trouble, Oh most certainly.  _

The liquor lingered on his lips much like his smile. “Dance with me, soldier boy?” He was so tired of being  _ scared.  _ So he grins and he decides  _ to hell with it.  _ It’s easy to let go then, it’s harder not to touch. It’s a second and an hour when Klaus stumbles into his chest and he says “I think you need a breather.” 

 

They find a forgotten hallway where the music is dulled and there’s a curtain of beads shielding them from the outside world. Dave slumps against the wall and closes his eyes. He wasn’t a smoking man, far from it but this felt like a situation where a smoke would be good. Beside him Klaus stands, it’s different looking up at him. A lot of things are different now. 

 

“I wish it could just be like this…. just us.”  It’s the quietest Dave has ever heard the man. It’s a hesitant admission. He straightens. 

“So do I.” It’s the closest he’s ever come to admittance of who he is. They’re as alone as they can get, but they’re not alone. People are just a few feet away behind the curtain and it’s  _ dangerous  _ but he doesn’t care. For once in his twenty four years he  _ doesn’t care _ . 

 

Klaus’ cheek is warm beneath his palm, the scratch of stubble just barely there. His breath ghosts against the thin skin of of his wrist. It’s intimate. It’s impossible to miss the way that Klaus sways, leaning into the touch as though he’s been starved of it. Maybe he has. Dave knows he feels like a man in a desert and Klaus is his oasis. There’s not a word spoken between them, basking in this simple touch for as long as they are both allowed. The moment feels fragile and he’s reluctant to do a single thing to break it. He just stares into Klaus eyes, black rimmed and beautiful and he feels his heart speed up and everything feels too warm. He feels like a man on the edge of a cliff. A man about to fall if he dares reach for what is just in front of him. Klaus; Klaus doesn’t seem even half as steady.  

He decides he wants more. He wants to erase that doubt from this beautiful man’s eyes, the hurt that he had seen in glimpses in the dark of a foreign place. He presses their lips together with no hesitancy, no doubt in the movement.  Alcohol lingered on their lips but below it was something sweet. He wants to taste it again. And again. He wants to drown in the warmth of him. 

 

“ _ Wow _ .”   Dave was inclined to agree. 

“Do you… do you want to dance some more?” 

“I wouldn’t say  _ dancing  _ is what I want to do now.”

“Well sunshine, how about we go have ourselves a good night?” 

 

*

They share a few more shots between them, arm linked and laughing before Dave, because Klaus would have spent all night on the dance floor given half the chance, wrapped his arm around the man’s waist and half carried him into the cool night air. 

“Dave,” Klaus croons, tiptoeing that tiny bit gain the height on him he needed to press lips against his temple, “are you walking me  _ home _ ?” he’s tipsy at best and Dave isn’t much better but the blush that takes his face is strong. 

“Yeah, Klaus. Now if you can help me out a bit we might actually  _ make it  _ back to the motel.” he firms his grip on his hip and steers them both through the streets. It’s okay. It’s night time and its clear enough that at least one of them is in need of the other’s support. When they pass by an alleyway Klaus stiffens, fingers digging sharply into Dave’s shoulders. It’s a stinging sensation and he makes a note to tell Klaus to trim his nails. He looks down the alley but can’t see a thing. 

“What is it?” 

“Nothing - I just thought. It’s nothing.” 

 

The stairs to their floor prove a new challenge when Klaus decides he’s not going to let go of Dave for anything and the American can’t find it in his heart to complain about that. He does make a play at it though when he shoulder knocks into the wall for the fourth time in a minute. 

“There are octopuses less clingy than you.” 

“Oh yeah? I can let go.” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

 

There’s a moment, once the door is closed behind them and they’re standing in the dark of his room, where Klaus’ lips are a breath away and his eyes are bright and Dave feels like he’s been struck by lightning. Klaus makes the step forward and suddenly their lips are crashing together with an edge that’s almost aggressive. Like a starved man, his hands fist in in Dave’s shirt and drag him close like they could meld together if Klaus just held on hard enough. 

  
He tilts his head, doesn’t try to take control because here- here he’s out of his depth. But he tries to slow them down, wants to savor this moment. That doesn’t stop his hands from sliding to the strip of too hot skin above Klaus’ waist band and slipping them beneath the too short top that had been teasing him all evening.    
It’s good. Just this is good and he could spend forever doing it but Klaus’ fingers are edging under his waistband and his lips are gone.    
  
“Take me to bed, soldier. Show me what you got.”    
They stumble to the bed, shoes tripping them up as they both fight to free themselves from their confines. Klaus is giggling and fumbling with his fly, cursing at it when the buttons trip him up. He laughs, forcing Klaus away only to pull his shirt over his head. “Beautiful.” He breathes.    
Klaus seems stunned and Dave says it again, cupping his jaw. “You’re beautiful.” His own shirt goes next and Klaus doesn’t hesitate to push him down onto the bed once it’s gone, straddling his thighs like he’s been doing it his whole life. He fits perfectly in his lap and Dave holds him there with arms around his waist, hands splayed wide on his back.    
“You really know how to woo a girl don’t you?” And it’s so ridiculous that Dave has to laugh, even when Klaus hands are exploring his chest and ghosting over his pecs and -    
“Oh!”    
“Sensitive?” Klaus teases, grinding against him. The answer is yes, his skin is on fire and every touch is like a lightning strike. In a move that’s not near as graceful as planned Dave tightens his arms around the older man and flips them, laying over Klaus and pinning him to the bed.    
“That’s not nice. Teasing a poor man”    
“Then show me what is.”    
It’s foreign territory, mapping Klaus’ jaw line with his lips, down his neck to kiss his collarbones. All the while their hips are slotted together and Klaus is making small pleas for more from him and it’s intoxicating. He wants to leave a mark, wants to have something to prove to himself that this is more than just a dream. Klaus’ fingers dig into his back and he just knows that he’ll have his own marks to wear. It’s only fair to return the favor. “Please, come on! Dave!”    
“I’ve never...” hands drag his hips down with more force.    
“This is good. Just- more.”    
  
It’s not finessed. It’s messy and over too quick but it’s absolutely perfect. Their underwear is half ruined and it’s a clumsy affair to get them off, lazy as they both feel. Neither of them have the slightest care about tossing them to the floor. They’re sweaty and tired and Dave can’t do much besides roll to the side and throw an arm around Klaus’ waist. He drags him closer when his skin starts to cool and kisses his neck, “G’night, sunshine.”   



End file.
